


Right beside you

by BarricadeKitten (Dominatrix)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Communication, Cuddling, Enjolras is crying and Grantaire takes care of him, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Pining Grantaire, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/BarricadeKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras rarely ever cries.<br/>When he does though, nobody really knows what to do.<br/>Well.<br/>Except Grantaire, apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right beside you

**Author's Note:**

> Actually, I wanted to end this fic after Grantaire says Enjolras to get some sleep. But then shipping happened. Oops.  
> Love, Liz x

Enjolras rarely ever cries.

When he does though, nobody really knows what to do.

All of his friends still stand there frozen in the first moment when his throat tightens and his shoulders start shaking. It is just too unfamiliar to see their passionate, detached leader in this situation, out of control. As soon as the spell is broken, though, all hell breaks loose.

They scuttle around him, pat his back, pull him into crushing hugs, comb through his hair, tell him it's all going to be fine, and treat him like they might lose him in a second if he is unaware how much they love him.

Éponine has his slender hands in her own, pressing them to her lips, and looking at him with concern in her dark eyes.

Combeferre already starts making plans about hunting the person down who makes his friend this sad.

Cosette flutters her hands over his head like a worried mother hen, pressing kisses to every patch of Enjolras that is exposed.

There are many concerned voices hailing down on him, there is always a hand on his knee, his elbow, a soft touch to promise comfort.

He never hears Grantaire's low rumble against his ear though.

Grantaire always stays away, watching him with a concerned look, but not approaching him. He's just watching.

Sometimes, when Enjolras seems to feel his gaze on him, their eyes meet, and Grantaire cocks his head. _You gonna be alright?_   Enjolras nods. _Sure._

 

 

Most of their friends would have at least two panic attacks and half a mental breakdown if they would find one of them asking for shelter in the middle of the night, shivering violently.

Grantaire, however, does nothing of the sort when he finds Enjolras knocking on his door, with red eyes and a miserable expression in his face.

"Can I hide here?" It is clear what he means. Combeferre is a wonderful flatmate, he is sure of it, but he can be a bit overzealous.

So Grantaire just nods, takes his coat and tells him to sit on the couch.

Some minutes later, there is a boiling hot cup of tea in front of him - he knows that Enjolras prefers coffee but he is definitely not having a sad _and_ hyperactive Apollo in his tiny flat - and Grantaire walks into the direction of his bedroom. "Tell me when you need anything."

He has barely lay down and opened his book again when there is a shuffle of feet and a hesitant knock.

"Come in" he calls, watching Enjolras from over the rim of his book. He still looks miserable, clutching the mug in his hands.

"Can I stay here with you? I don't...I don't want to be alone."

Grantaire makes an inviting gesture with his hand. "Join me."

The blonde man climbs into his bed, puts the mug onto the old night stand and curls up next to him. Grantaire can practically smell the tenseness in Enjolras. It's new that he searches contact instead of just letting it happen. Especially regarding the fact that it's _him_. It seems to be bad tonight.

"You would probably be more comfortable if you would put your head on my chest." He makes an effort to sound indifferent, almost bored. Enjolras looks at him with wide eyes. "Would that be okay?"

Grantaire hides the smile behind his book. "Whatever you need, Apollo."

Enjolras buries his face in Grantaires shirt without hesitation. After a while Grantaire can feel him trembling against him, clutching the fabric in his hands, and then he starts sobbing again. It's a tiny, desperate noise, and he is not sure whether this is worse than if he would scream out loud. Waiting for instructions, for consent, Grantaire rubs little circles on his shoulder.

"Tell me what you need" he asks lowly when it becomes clear that Enjolras is too far gone to initiate.

"Can you hold me? Just for a moment?"

Well, that's unexpected.

"Wait" he mumbles, bookmarks the page he is on and lets the book drop to the floor softly. Even that low noise makes Enjolras cringe and whimper deep down in his throat. Grantaire strokes his hands over his upper arms, a wordless apology, and pulls him up a bit.

His arms are folding around Enjolras carefully, but Enjolras is still looking at him with a hesitant look on his face. „R...“

"I wont say a word to anybody, not even when I'm angry at you“ he replies, seemingly reading his mind. Enjolras' face relaxes instantly, and eventhough he is still pale, he manages to form a bit of a smile.

"Thank you." Grantaire kisses Enjolras' forehead, letting the blonde man bury his face in the crook of his neck.

„Always, Apollo. For you, always. Try to get some sleep.“

He feels Enjolras's body slacken after only a few minutes, hears how his breath slows, gets deeper, more peaceful. Grantaire starts carding his fingers through the other man's hair, looking down on the golden curls that cover parts of his face. He feels his own heart straining to stay in his rib cage, but he's forcing to not pull Enjolras too close.

If this is the only way he can be close to him...Well. It will have to be enough.

Grantaire knows it won't be, but that's not important. He has him for now.

 

When Enjolras awakes in the morning and looks up at Grantaire with a sleepy, hesitating smile, the dark-haired man hasn't slept one second next to him.

„How are you feeling?“ Grantaire asks lowly, smoothing a non-existent crease in his shirt down just to have an excuse to withdraw his hand from Enjolras's body.

„Better“ Enjolras answers, sitting up and ruffling a hand through his hair. Grantaire bites back a wince when he feels the weight on his chest go away, and already counts the seconds to when Enjolras will go back to despising him. For his own sake, he hopes that he won't be able to see the change in his eyes.

„Good, actually. Thank you.“

Grantaire laughs bitterly, propping himself up onto his elbows, watching. Even his back is endearing, for god's sake. How is that even possible? „Well, I crashed on your couch more often than not when I was too drunk to think straight. I guess we're even.“

Enjolras turns around, and Grantaire frowns at the surprisingly gentle look on his face. „Yea, I know. But I gave you a couch. You cared about me.“

„I always care about you“ Grantaire mumbles, because he is still sleepy, and his heart-brain-tongue coordination doesn't work as well as it should. When he hears Enjolras take a sharp breath, he knows he has fucked up epically, even considering his standards.

The warm touch on his hands, wringing each other nervously, startles him and makes him flick his eyes up to Enjolras's face.

„Are you serious? Because if you're not, please tell me right now so I can just forget I ever heard that. Actually, let's just pretend we both didn't say anything.“ He draws his hand back, and scoots towards the edge of the bed. Grantaire has a grip on his elbow before he even thought about it.

„I mean it. What I said. I care about you, eventhough you're a terrible workaholic and sometimes, not a really nice person.“

Enjolras turns, eyes wide, swallowing hard. „Is that true?“

Grantaire smiles widely and shrugs. „Yea, you're a real pain in the neck.“

„Not that. The...the other thing.“

„Oh, that.“ His lips split into an even wider grin while his hand runs up and down Enjolras's upper arm.

„That's true as well. I do care about you. Unhealthily so, it seems. And because I see that terrified _I'm gonna fry my brain_ look on your face and the way you nearly gnaw your own lower lip off“ Enjolras stops worrying his reddening lip with his teeth instantly but still looks terrified, „I'm pretty sure that I need to be the asshole who risks being rejected. I care about you, and last night I couldn't sleep because I was so busy pining over you. I do that a lot, the pining thing. Apparently, having you sleep in my bed with me is especially distracting. So to make it clear, just for you: I am in love with you, Apollo. I have been for quite a while now, and I really hope that I didn't get everything from a few minutes ago wrong. That would be terribly awkward.“

Enjolras blinks, and for a long moment that's all he does.

„Apollo?“ Grantaire asks softly. „Are you gonna say anything?“

„You're in love with me?“ Enjolras breathes, panic in his eyes.

„Yes, I'm afraid so. I know that's probably quite inconvenient for...“ He doesn't get any further, the rest of the sentence gets lost in Enjolras's mouth when he leans forward to kiss him hungrily, as if he had waited years to do that. (He has, actually, but Grantaire doesn't know that. Not yet, at least.)

When they finally part, Enjolras is pressed up against Grantaire, straddling him. „God, R, I'm so happy I came to you last night.“

„Why did you come anyway?“ he asks, seemingly casual. He still doesn't really get it. He's more than glad about how everything turned out, though.

„I guess studying and essays and pulling all-nighters for organising protests demanded a bit too much, so I kind of broke down. And you know how our friends are. I couldn't stand that many people all fussing about me. You're always giving me my own space, waiting for me to come instead of crowding over me.“

Grantaire chuckles softly and cups Enjolras's face in his hands. „But only because I'm a selfish bastard who doesn't give a shit about other people.“

Enjolras smirks and steals a kiss from him which is over far too soon. „No, I don't think so. I think you get me, which is one of the reasons I love you.“

Grantaire blushes furiously. „Say that again“ he breathes.

„I love you“ Enjolras repeats, mirroring Grantaire's smile.

„I love you too.“

 

Enjolras rarely ever cries.

When he does though, Grantaire is always by his side, taking care of him.

 


End file.
